


Little Woman

by chezamanda



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Barebacking, Come Marking, Community: kink_bingo, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Felching, Femininity, Gender Roles, Genderplay, Manhandling, Obedience, Playful Sex, Roleplay, Spanking, Stockings, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chezamanda/pseuds/chezamanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint has an unexpectedly strong reaction to his partner playing the traditionally perfect wife. Natasha knows exactly how to handle this situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Woman

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kink Bingo 2013 Round 6 [[gender play](http://kink-wiki.dreamwidth.org/15763.html)].
> 
> Thanks to the Hive for the beta work.

Natasha never wore pink.

Clint forced back a grin when he saw Natasha fidget with the neckline of her dress, which was, in fact, pink. Soft pink with lace trim, to be exact. His own outfit was considerably less frilly, just a boring polo shirt and khakis. Not what he would usually wear, but they weren’t all that different than his off-duty t-shirt and jeans. They were undercover as a wealthy couple attending some richy-rich garden party being thrown by their target in the Hamptons, a known HYDRA affiliate who was developing a new weapon. Recon mission, information gathering - that kind of deal, but they still needed to blend.

To fit in with the other couples, they had assumed very traditional roles and their clothing reinforced that image. Natasha was a permanent fixture at his side, tittering at his jokes and running her hand teasingly over his lower back. She had swept her long, red curls into a loose ponytail that laid over one shoulder beneath the wide-brimmed white hat that she wore. A simple strand of pearls and matching earrings along with a pair of bone white shoes put the finishing touches on her picture perfect wife role.

Clint was not allowed to call her “little woman.” 

Natasha sauntered away from him under the guise of getting a drink from the opulent buffet that was set up beneath a large tent. Though the dress had a full skirt, Clint couldn’t keep from staring at her ass. He tried to distract himself by chatting with the investment banker who had never met a glass of scotch that he didn’t like. Money and stocks were not as interesting as Clint might have hoped and his gaze drifted back to Natasha in her pretty pink dress.

He couldn’t figure out why this cover of hers was having such a strong pull on his libido. He had seen Natasha in and out of outfits that had all but brought him to his knees, but this was driving him crazy. She had turned on the coy little smile and batted her eyelashes up at him adoringly. From the cursory glance that Clint had taken, Natasha was now using it to flirt with their mark by the hors d’oeuvres.

Clint took a long drink of whiskey and did his best to focus on staying in cover, not letting his jealousy show through.

* * *

Natasha was still wearing the dress as she uploaded the layout of the mark’s home from a scanner that traveled through the ductwork. She had retrieved it while on a trip to the “powder room.” No one had been the wiser since the little piece of tech was built to hide inside of a lipstick case. They would be able to use the intel to find a way into the house and pull information from his devices later that night.

Clint busied himself by sending a brief progress report back to HQ, but the effects of Natasha’s cover remained at the back of his mind. She stood, shaking loose her ponytail and kicked off her shoes, leaving them near the dresser. Glancing over her shoulder, she gave him a coquettish grin.

“Going to keep staring at me,” she said, “or are you going to take your wife to bed?”

“Been waiting for you to ask that all day.”

Natasha poised herself against the dresser, leaning back on both arms and still smiling at him; an invitation. He stepped over to her until their bodies were just touching, his eyes never leaving hers. His hands smoothed over the soft material that encased her frame. He knew what she looked like beneath the pink and lace, but he felt like he was about to unwrap a pretty little present. She drew her plump, rosy lower lip between her teeth, looking up at him beneath her lashes. 

“So pretty in your dress,” he told her, bringing his hands up to cup her full breasts through the material. 

Natasha gasped softly, her body arching into his touch.

“Gonna show me what you have on underneath it?” 

He heard the hitch in her breathing. The same sound that she made when his fingers or his mouth pressed against her in the right way; he loved that sound. Bottom lip still caught between her teeth, Natasha held his gaze as she reached down and gathered the skirt in her hands, bringing her thighs into view inch by inch. The pale lace edging of her slip came up with the skirt and he could see the matching garter belt that held up her stockings. Just an inch or so more before he could see everything. It was then that she paused, as though she were waiting for his permission to continue.

Clint ran his hand teasingly up her inner thigh, delighted in the way she shivered beneath his touch. He went to his knees and shouldered her legs apart, just wide enough to fit him. 

“Show me more, baby,” he said.

Just like the rest of her undergarments, the panties that Natasha wore were satin with lace edging. He could already see where she had soaked through them and felt a surge of pride swell inside of him. Leaning forward, Clint buried his face between her thighs and inhaled the heady scent of her arousal. Natasha whimpered and pressed her hips into his face. His tongue slid between her folds, still covered by the material.

Clint wrapped his arms around Natasha’s thighs, bringing them up and around to hold her hips in place. He lapped at her clit until she was squirming against his hold. God, he couldn’t get enough of her taste, and she was so fucking wet. She whined and panted, clearly holding back and trying to be quiet. Clint flicked his gaze up at her face. Bitten red lips were half covered by her fingers, her head arched backwards with eyes closed. He could see where her fingers had smudged some of her lipstick. His cock throbbed between his thighs at the debauched sight of her.

“Fuck, baby, you taste so good,” he moaned and paused to suck at her sweetness again. “Wanna put my cock in you.”

Natasha sobbed out a breath. “ _Please_.”

It took everything to pull himself away, but Clint stood and pulled her in for a kiss, sharing her taste. Natasha moaned, sucking at his tongue as her hands gripped his shirt. The warmth of her arousal mixed with the scent of her perfume and Clint wanted nothing more than to drown himself in her. 

“Take off your dress, nothing else,” he told her, stepping away from her to sit on the edge of the bed. She obeyed without hesitation.

Natasha’s soft, fiery curls fanned out over her shoulders, a stark contrast to her ivory skin and the pale rose slip that hugged every lush curve. The lace trim just barely concealed her full breasts, one thin strap clinging tenuously to the edge of Natasha’s shoulder; one deep breath and it would slip. She kept her eyes down - something that she never did - deliberately avoiding his gaze. He could see the flush that crept from her cheeks all the way down to her chest and licked the lingering taste of her from his lips. 

“Now your panties,” he said, “but don’t pull your slip up.”

She looked at him then, and he could see the wheels working in her head. The barest hint of a grin flashed across her lips before she dipped slightly, bringing her hands to the hem and pulled the slip up completely. She met his gaze with a challenging look as she slid the satin panties down over her hips and let them fall to the floor.

Clint could play her little game.

“You didn’t do what I told you,” he said, his voice taking on an authoritative tone. “Come here.”

The grin reappeared but she didn’t move. 

“I said: Come. Here.”

Natasha took a step towards Clint, but still kept her distance. Annoyance flared inside of him at the willful little smirk on her face. He stared at her until she finally took another step, getting her within reach. The air crackled between them - they both knew what was coming. Clint grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her across his lap so that her ass was presented enticingly over his thighs. She yelped in surprise when he forced her down, struggling weakly against his hold.

“You know what happens when you disobey your husband,” he said, still keeping that stern voice. His hand smoothed over the curve of her ass.

Natasha settled down and he could see her watching him in the large, full length mirror that was positioned in one corner of the room. He grinned, sliding the hem of her slip up to expose her perfectly round buttocks. The first smack made her cry out and start squirming again, as did the strikes that followed it. 

“Going to do what I tell you?” he asked, pausing to run his hand over the red marks that were starting to show.

Natasha made a frustrated sound, but didn’t reply.

“Guess I'll have to make you listen.”

Clint brought his hand down in a series of sharp cracks that had Natasha gasping and sobbing with each blow. She raised her ass to meet his hand, still watching in the mirror as he disciplined her. From the slackness of her mouth, it appeared as though she wouldn’t be able to keep up the defiant wife act any longer. This gave Clint a smug sense of satisfaction knowing that he could do that for her. 

Suddenly, Natasha threw her head back, letting loose a cry that Clint knew very well, and dug her nails into the mattress at his side. Pitiful sounds slipped between every labored breath and it took Clint a moment to realize what had happened.

Natasha had just come, completely untouched.

“Baby…” he said softly and gathered her up in his arms.

She wrapped her arms around him, still gasping for breath against his shoulder. He rubbed gentle circles into her back and let her ride out the aftershocks her orgasm. This was a first, at least that he had experienced since they started sleeping together, and that smug feeling he’d felt moments earlier deepened at the realization. 

Slowly, Natasha came around. She raised her head, and he saw the dazed look in her eyes when she met his gaze. An overwhelming feeling of tenderness filled him, and he gently held her face between both hands, studying her rose-flushed cheeks, her swollen red lips, the way her hair framed her face in a wild array of curls. She was so fucking beautiful.

Clint traced his thumb over her lush bottom lip as he cradled her face with one hand. “That’s my good girl,” he said. “Do you want my cock inside of you?”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Yes,” she said with a visible shiver.

“Tell me what you want, Tasha,” he ordered.

Clint could see the way her eyes darkened at his words before she lowered her gaze. He ached to be inside of her and to make her come over and over. His thumb moved beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him, and he repeated his command.

“Oh god,” she pleaded, “I want you to fuck me, Clint, _please_.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “On your hands and knees on the bed. Keep what you have on.”

Clint heard the quiet whimper that escaped her lips before she moved from his hold onto the mattress. She posed herself exactly as he had told her and made quite the pretty picture as Clint stood at the foot of the bed. The pale satin stretched over the luscious curve of her ass, the trim hiked up just enough so that he could see her pussy shining with wet arousal. He groaned at the sight, and his cock pressed insistently against his zipper, eager to feel that tight heat enveloping it. 

Unable to resist such an invitation, Clint bent over and buried his face in her pussy, tongue lapping at her clit. Natasha cried out and pressed back against his face as he licked at her honeyed warmth. He couldn’t believe how wet she was. Groaning, he paused to suck the hard little bud between his lips and was rewarded with a sharp yelp from Natasha. With her taste on his tongue and her scent filling his nose, Clint was engulfed in her.

Natasha swore loudly when he pulled himself away from her pussy. He could have easily spent the rest of the day with his tongue buried in her cunt, but he was aching for release and needed to be inside of her. Quickly removing his clothes, Clint crawled up onto the bed behind her and leaned down so that his body was curled around hers. His cock pressed up against her heat, and it took every last shred of his willpower not to come from the contact.

“This what you want, baby?” he purred into her ear, rubbing himself against her pussy.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she whimpered in a broken, quiet voice that was so unlike her own. “Yes, please. _Please_.”

Clint sat back, spreading her slick over his cock as he stroked it with one hand before guiding it into her cunt. No matter how many times they had done this, that first, sweet glide always shocked him because of how perfect it was. She welcomed him into her body with a pleasurable sob, warm, wet, and clinging. His hands enveloped the swell of her hips and he took her roughly, making her cry out with every thrust. He was the only one that she let fuck her bare, and that thought never failed to send a thrill down his spine. 

He caught a glimpse of their reflection in the mirror - they looked so fucking good together. That one satiny strap had slipped down her shoulder and her tits swayed with the force of each thrust. Clint ran his hand up her side, loving how the material slid against his palm, and grabbed a handful of her red curls to bring her up flush against his chest. Natasha gasped at the new angle, fingers clawing desperately into the flesh of his arm, and he fucked up into her with the same fervor as before. 

“Feel so good on my cock, baby,” he ground out against her ear.

His hand slipped beneath the lace that covered her breasts so that he could feel their perfect weight against his palm. Mewling, Natasha arched into his touch as he plucked both nipples to hardness. Her pussy fluttered around his cock and he bit back a groan - she was coming again. At this rate, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. Clint turned her head roughly and claimed her mouth as she trembled in his hold.

Clint forced her back down on her hands and knees, more than ready to find his own release. He pushed the hem of her slip up around her waist so that he could see where their bodies met, but kept his hands away from her hips, purposefully not directing her movements.

“Fuck yourself on my cock, Tasha,” he told her firmly.

Natasha gave one experimental push before she levered herself just enough so that she was bouncing against his hips. He loved the way her ass looked as she fucked back onto his dick. The garter belt framed the lush curve of it, somehow making her ass look all the more enticing. Her movements, slower than his own, created a delicious friction that made Clint lose his mind. She looked over her shoulder with that same coy look as before, her bitten-red lower lip between her teeth that made her look so perfectly fucked out.

That look was what sent him over the edge. He started coming inside of her, but she pulled away, ready to thrust before she realized that he was coming. His cock spent itself, spilling come in thick, pearly ropes against her stockings. Grunting, Clint swayed forward and leaned his weight on one arm. He wedged his cock inside of her pussy again, loving the way the faint flutters of her inner walls countered the throbbing of his cock.

“Goddammit, Tasha,” he panted, pressing his forehead between her shoulder blades. “Gonna kill me.”

“Mmm,” she purred in response.

Clint gingerly withdrew himself from Natasha. A surge of possessiveness grew at the sight of his come dripping from her pussy and streaking the lace of her stockings. He bent down to lap up the fluid from her cunt, making her groan weakly. This time, he didn’t try to make her come because he knew she wasn’t ready for another go. Clint ran his fingers along the garter belt straps, undoing each clasp that held up her now soiled stockings before he removed it along with the hosiery. 

Next, he lifted the delicate material of her slip, kissing along her stomach as he moved it up towards her breasts. He carefully sat her up so that he could pull the slip off over her head and tossed it to join the pile of clothing on the floor. Natasha smiled fondly at him and leaned into his touch when he brought his hand up to her face. Though she never admitted it, he knew that she loved it when he doted on her like this.

Natasha pulled him in for a kiss, sighing against his mouth and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“I liked that,” she said as though she were sharing a secret.

“That’s why you’re my little woman,” he said, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb.

Clint yelped when she bit down on it.


End file.
